


it's a mean world that I've known

by Lise



Series: Where the Devil Don't Go [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: : the porn edition, Anal Sex, Bondage, Cock Warming, Dark Porn, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Slavery, basically it's fucked up, bordering on horrific porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: The Grandmaster has Loki for just one more night. Loki expects it'll be a long one.Missing scene frombruised my knees getting down to pray.





	it's a mean world that I've known

**Author's Note:**

> I forget who enabled me into this. Probably one of the usual suspects. Probably I didn't take a lot of enabling. And it's another "whoops this turned into a series, would you look at that!" moment, since...yeah, including this and the threequel in edits, that makes...four in this verse. _Whoops._
> 
> Anyway, this fic is basically the "if you were wondering what the Grandmaster did with Loki off screen between the last two scenes of _bruised my knees getting down to pray_...here you go. Just gonna...reiterate the warnings and add that there's discussion of (but no actual) cock piercing. So there's that. 
> 
> Thanks to my tireless [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com). And if you haven't seen enough of me yet - I'm on [tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), most often when I should be doing other things.

When Loki first saw Thor, he was half convinced that he’d imagined him. That he was a hallucination, even if he was only barely inebriated (not enough, based on the gleam in the Kree’s eye). It was so jarring, so - out of place, after all this time, to see Thor stalking toward him with thunder in his expression. 

A moment later he realized that no, he was real, he was real and _really here_ and a dangerous, horrible hope reared its head.

He should have known better than to think it would be that easy. 

* * *

Walking away from Thor without looking back was among the hardest things Loki thought he’d ever done. 

It didn’t help that he could feel Thor staring at his back, pulling at him, making him want to turn and scream _help me, please, help me,_ but he didn’t. Somehow, he didn’t. 

“Wow,” the Grandmaster said, arm heavy across his shoulders. “Wow, that really was - _something._ You surprised me, Lo! Just - running _off_ like that. With that - no good brother of yours, no less. What were you thinking?”

Loki searched for a good answer to that question. He wasn’t sure that there _was_ a good answer to that question. “I wasn’t expecting to see him here,” he said.

“That’s not really a response to the question,” the Grandmaster said reproachfully. His fingers drummed against Loki’s shoulder. “You know, I could really...take offense. That you’d just take off, not a word to me, after everything I’ve done for you.”

_Opportunity knocked. I thought I saw a way out._ He might still have one. Maybe. But Loki wasn’t going to assume anything about the condition in which the Grandmaster planned to return him to Thor; he’d noticed no promises had been made about that. “I’m sorry, Grandmaster.” 

“Hmm,” the Grandmaster said, eyeing him with narrowed eyes. “Do you mean that? Really?”

Loki gulped. “I do,” he said, because he did, after a fashion. He was sorry he hadn’t moved fast enough. He was, deeper down, sorry to have disappointed. 

“I feel like you might just be telling me what you think I want to hear,” the Grandmaster said, not quite accusation. Loki shook his head. 

“No, Grandmaster. I...was caught up in the moment.”

“Mm. He does seem to be...seductive, our Lord of Thunder. Managed to sneak off with my champion, and Scrapper-142 - and now he’s got you too.” The Grandmaster sighed. “Well, I suppose I _can_ see the appeal. The muscles, mostly.”

Loki’s stomach turned. “It isn’t,” he started to object, and cut himself off. The Grandmaster gave him a sideways eyebrow but didn’t seem inclined to argue. 

“No matter, no matter,” he said. “The point is...the point is _you,_ Lo. And making, hm, making a night to remember.”

Loki licked his lips, his guts knotting. “And how...how do you intend to do that?” 

“It’s a surprise,” the Grandmaster said serenely. “I can’t give away _everything._ Though I...I assure you I have _plenty_ of ideas.” He steered Loki toward a towering building of glass windows, and Loki tried not to feel the sinking dread that he was walking into his doom. 

“Not even a hint?” He dared. The Grandmaster paused, turning toward Loki and setting two fingers under his chin. 

“Lo,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but... _I’m_ in charge here, right? Which means...what I say, goes.”

Loki’s blood chilled. The Grandmaster rarely seemed to feel the need to be quite so blatant. That he was now…

“Of course,” he said, a little faintly. “I am at your disposal.” _One night,_ he told himself. _You can make it through one night._

_Depends on the night,_ murmured a dark voice, and Loki tried hard to shut it out. 

“Yes you are,” the Grandmaster said. “Yes, you are. Just...one more time. Well, not _one._ We’ve got a whole night, hmm? And I know that you can really go the _distance._ So let’s...let’s make the most of our time together.” He leaned forward and breathed on Loki’s lips, almost kissing him before pulling back, taking Loki by the wrist and drawing him through the doors. 

_Thor, help me,_ Loki thought, but no. Thor might be here, but Loki was still on his own. 

* * *

The Grandmaster ushered Loki into his room - spacious, comfortable, luxurious, but what Loki looked at most was the bed, his mind spinning through the things that might happen on it later. The Grandmaster stood behind him and squeezed his shoulders. 

“All right, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s, uh...why don’t you shed some layers, hmm?” 

“Of course,” Loki said numbly, raising his hands to begin unfastening his tunic, but the Grandmaster caught him. 

“No,” he said. “Hold on, actually. Let’s...leave those on a minute, shall we? We’ve got all night. Why should we rush?” 

Loki’s stomach swooped uneasily. “Why indeed,” he murmured, trying to guess, to _think_ what the Grandmaster might be planning for him. He could think of too many possibilities. There were too many possibilities he couldn’t think of. 

“Do you want a drink, sweetpea? I want a drink.” The Grandmaster went over to a miniature bar to one side of the room and fussed around it. Loki watched him, unmoving, until he returned with two seemingly identical glasses, the liquid inside fizzing. Loki stared down at it. 

“Is it drugged?” He asked bluntly. The Grandmaster frowned at him.

“My _goodness,_ Lo. You sound...what if it were?”

Loki supposed it didn’t actually matter. He shrugged and took a sip; the Grandmaster’s expression relaxed. 

“ _That’s_ better,” he said. “I’m still...still trying to figure out what I really think about this whole...business. You doing what you did.” 

Loki’s exhale shuddered, as did he. “I told you, Grandmaster, I’m–”

“Sorry, yes, yes, you said.” The Grandmaster waved a hand. “But sorry doesn’t make everything just... _okay._ And it’s hard, you know, I want to forgive you, don’t want to leave things on bad terms, but…”

Loki took another nervous swallow of his drink. “You want me to make it up to you?” He offered.

“Oh, you’re going to,” the Grandmaster said easily. “That’s the point, right? But that’s not...what I’m talking about. I’m talking about _me._ What _I’m..._ thinking about.” He took a sip from his own drink, set it aside, and stepped closer to Loki, smoothing down the front of his tunic and then sliding his hands down to Loki’s waist.

“The first time I saw you,” the Grandmaster said, tugging him closer, “when you snuck into my party, remember? I looked at you and I thought _ooh, that one, he’s going to be trouble._ Right away. I could just...smell it on you. It was - honestly, it was one of the reasons I just _had_ to have you.”

“I’m flattered,” Loki said, his voice wobbling.

“As you should be,” the Grandmaster said. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Of course I was, I’m always right. You _are_ a little...a sweet little troublemaker.” He nudged Loki back, toward the bed, until he bumped against the edge of it.

Loki’s breathing came nervously quick. His thoughts flickered back and forth, trying to decide on the right tactic. “You...seemed to enjoy it.” 

“I did!” The Grandmaster said. “I did, I really did. So much fun. Like a...like a little game, you were. I mean. Getting you into bed alone was...you _tease._ ” He slid his hands over Loki’s still-clothed ass. “Mm. Worth it, though. Definitely worth it.” 

Loki’s face felt warm and he twisted his head away only to have the Grandmaster guide it back forward. “Hey now,” he said. “Don’t hide from me. I’m trying to have a _conversation._ ”

He stared at the Grandmaster, panic fluttering in his chest. “What about?” 

“Why, about _you,_ ” the Grandmaster said. “And how we got, you know, _here._ I just don’t _get_ it. Why you’d, you’d…” His hand strayed, cupping Loki’s cock; a small noise burst out of him before he could swallow it back. “Didn’t I give you everything you wanted?” 

_You gave me so much of what I wanted I drowned in it._ “Grandmaster,” he said. “It isn’t that–”

“Hush,” he said sternly, hand starting to massage in slow, gentle, circles. “I’m talking.”

_It isn’t much of a conversation if you don’t let me talk,_ Loki thought, but that insistent pressure was - distracting, and he knew better than to say it anyway.

“See, I’m just...I thought we had a good thing going on.” Loki sucked in a breath as his hand shifted, squeezing lightly. “Only now I think maybe you didn’t appreciate...appreciate that. How _lucky_ you are. Plenty of people would just _die_ to be where you are right now.” The Grandmaster stilled, blinking at him. “Do you know that?” 

“I do,” Loki said. His voice came out sounding shaky. 

“Really? Cause you’re...I didn’t _have_ to pick you. Could’ve been someone else. But there you were, practically dangling yourself under my nose…I’ve never been very good at resisting temptation. Why bother? And you _are_ tempting, you...delicious morsel.” 

He started moving his hand in light pulses. Loki’s hips lifted into his hand and the Grandmaster whipped it away. 

“Ah,” he said. “We’re...we’re going at my pace. Actually...actually. Why don’t you go ahead and take your clothes off now, sweetheart? Then stretch out on the bed. You’re such a _slippery_ thing, let’s...make sure that you hold _still_ now.”

A chill shivered through him. Loki knew what that meant, and while sometimes he could enjoy it, just now he didn’t exactly _savor_ the idea of being bound. Though really it was just making literal what was already true. 

The Grandmaster backed away, giving Loki the room to strip out of his clothes, eyes sweeping over him with an approving hum that made Loki flush. He climbed onto the bed, lying down on his back.

“Ah,” the Grandmaster said. “Over, honeybunch.”

The chill deepened, chasing off what arousal remained. If he didn’t much like the idea of being bound right now, he liked even less the idea of being bound and not being able to see what the Grandmaster was doing. And he had the distinct feeling that the Grandmaster knew that. 

“Now, Lo-lo,” the Grandmaster said, a little firmer, and Loki wiped away his thoughts and turned over. 

This...didn’t have to be hard. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before. The Grandmaster had used him in more ways than Loki could count; this was just business as usual. 

_Then why are you afraid?_

The Grandmaster started with his ankles, humming as he fastened them to the bedposts with cuffs that were almost certainly stronger than they felt. Then his arms, so he was bound spread-eagled, naked, facedown, and altogether too aware of all of the above. And of the Grandmaster, his presence a low thrum of power against Loki’s senses. 

“ _There_ we go,” the Grandmaster said, pressing a hand against the back of Loki’s neck. “That’s...nice. You really do look just _great_ all laid out like this, you know.” He trailed fingers down Loki’s spine, raising goosebumps in his wake, and then withdrew. Loki exhaled quietly, only to yelp when the Grandmaster smacked his ass hard enough to sting. 

“Excellent,” he said, and then walked away. 

Loki _heard_ him walking away. The swish of his robe, the noisy sip of his drink followed by a “hmm, too much ice.” His fingers flexed, pulling involuntarily at the bonds stretching him just a little too far to be comfortable. 

“Grandmaster?” He said, uncertain. 

“What’s that, sweetums?” 

Loki licked his lips, not sure how to ask _what are you going to do to me_ without asking. The lack of give in his restraints made Loki’s brain fizz a little, and he fought it down, twisting his head to the side, but the Grandmaster was out of his range of vision. 

“You’re not - getting _impatient,_ are you?” The Grandmaster asked. “Because I just...I want to be clear. Tonight’s not about _you,_ Lo. That’s your problem, you think everything’s...all about _you, you, you._ ”

Loki wanted to laugh. _I think that?_

“But right now - right now, this is about _me._ And what _I_ want. And right now, what I want is to just...have a drink, relax...take it easy, you know? You’re just...decoration.”

Loki’s face burned and he closed his eyes, shame and humiliation welling up like blood. He should be _used_ to it, that - casual dismissal, the _disregard,_ and yet some part of him still shriveled up when the Grandmaster demonstrated it. _You are nothing. You don’t matter._ Lessons he’d been taught over and over again and _still couldn’t learn._

He turned his head so he could press his burning face against the blanket and told himself he was being stupid. If this was the worst he would get, then he could count himself lucky. 

“I thought about inviting some friends,” the Grandmaster said after a silence in which the only sound was ice clinking against glass and the Grandmaster humming to himself. “You know, just...I could probably sell _tickets_ if I wanted to. But I decided...I decided I’d be nice. Keep it to just the two of us this time.” His fingers brushed Loki’s ankle, and Loki’s body jumped, jarring against the restraints. “Hoo boy,” he said with a laugh. “Little - uh, little tense, there?” 

_Can you blame me,_ Loki thought, but didn’t say. The Grandmaster hummed, though it didn’t sound particularly pleased, and trailed a finger down the back of Loki’s leg. 

“Look at you, though,” he said. “I mean, when you’re not just...running your mouth, chat-chat-chatting, or, uh...running off with former contenders of mine, you’re...I should’ve just kept you like this _all_ the time. Well, uh, not necessarily with the bed, but...naked. Maybe a gag. Why _did_ I ever let you put clothes on, Lo-lo?”

His face was burning more, now. And worse, with it came the slow, different burn of arousal. His thighs flexed and the Grandmaster made an approving noise. 

“Oh, hmm. Are you - are you trying to show off for me? Make me, uh, less upset with you by flaunting yourself like that?”

Loki licked his lips again. “Is it working,” he started to say, but cut off with a yelp when the Grandmaster slapped his leg, hard. 

“Ah,” he said. “Did I _say_ you could talk? Remember - decoration.”

His stomach burned hotter. His cock twitched. 

“Better,” the Grandmaster praised when Loki stayed quiet. “Much better, see?” He smoothed his hand down Loki’s thigh like he was running his fingers over a rug, or a blanket. “Everything’s so much simpler when you act like...when you remember what you are, sweetheart.” _What you are._ Oh, he knew.

It should be easy, Loki thought, to just let himself go, ease back into the life he’d been living before he’d seen Thor. As though he’d never seen Thor at all. All his desires oriented toward the Grandmaster’s. If he just leaned into that...

The Grandmaster sat down on the bed; Loki felt it shift and his breathing picked up. He rested a hand on the small of Loki’s back, just above his ass, rubbing a small circle in his skin. Loki heard him take another sip of his drink and set it aside.

Then he thrust two dry fingers into Loki’s ass.

Loki yelped, his body jarring forward in an effort to get away, but the cuffs holding his ankles didn’t leave him anywhere to go. He let out a thin whine through his nose and then took in several heaving breaths, trying to relax, to adjust. 

“Mm,” the Grandmaster said, idly twisting his fingers, the burn of it singing up Loki’s spine, stoking the perverse fire in his belly that embraced this kind of degradation. “That’s it. You know, I was thinking I’d...leave you here a little longer, but it’s just so hard not to be tempted to, hmm. Well, I’ve always said the best art is interactive.” He pumped his hand, still dry, and Loki gritted his teeth and sucked in harsh breaths, his toes curling as he tried to just - relax into it. Give in. He should be so used to giving in, and yet his body still tried to rebel. 

“What do you say, Lo-lo?” The Grandmaster asked idly. “Can I take the merchandise for a little spin?” 

Loki swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “Of course, Grandmaster,” he said hoarsely. The Grandmaster slapped him again, this time on the other thigh.

“Ah,” he said. “There you go again! _Talking._ Silly boy, I don’t need to _ask permission._ ”

Loki made himself nod, wordlessly. The Grandmaster pulled out his fingers and Loki heard the slick sound of oil on flesh and tried not to tense, wishing he could see, could know–

The Grandmaster stretched out over him and thrust into him with a groan, spitting Loki on his cock and stretching him to what felt like just the edge of tearing. He panted, fists clenching, tugging against his restraints, the Grandmaster’s weight pinning him down against the mattress.

“Oh, yes,” the Grandmaster almost purred. “Nice and...snug fit. Perfect. Someone, ah, made your ass with me in mind, didn’t they?” 

This time Loki remembered not to answer. He pressed his forehead into the mattress and tried to ignore the lurching in his stomach between nausea and reflexive arousal, like his body was already getting itself ready to submit, to keep him from holding anything back, even something so small as his orgasm. 

The Grandmaster held still, sheathed inside Loki’s body as Loki struggled not to make a sound. His hand slid over Loki’s hip and he jerked violently; the Grandmaster laughed. 

“Oh, sweetie-pie,” he said. “Relax a little, won’t you? Just - just a little. I want to be able to move _comfortably,_ here.” He rocked his hips as if to illustrate and Loki’s body clenched in reflex. The Grandmaster made a little _ha_ noise and paused, digging his fingers in. “That’s not - _relaxing,_ Lo.” 

“You make it - hard,” Loki said, and then tensed in preparation for another blow. The Grandmaster huffed. 

“I didn’t ask what I was doing to _you,_ ” he said. “I’m asking you to do something for _me._ So...how about it?” 

Loki tried to force himself to relax. Apparently he managed, at least well enough, because the Grandmaster said, “ah, _there_ we go,” and pulled out, rubbing the head of his cock across Loki’s sensitive rim before thrusting back in. Loki focused on keeping himself relaxed as the Grandmaster rode him in long, almost lazy strokes. It did get easier, his body adjusting, pleasure starting to burn in his stomach. There wasn’t enough friction either inside him or against his cock to grant him more than a warm flush and a haze on his thoughts. Enough that he could pretend he’d chosen this. Not enough that he didn’t hate himself for enjoying it, for wishing that the Grandmaster would touch him, or angle his cock a little differently, or give Loki enough room that he could rut against the sheets–

The Grandmaster stopped moving, sighed, and pulled out. Loki blinked, dazed; he hadn’t felt him finish. 

“Grandmaster?” He said, a little blurry.

“I think - time for another drink, hmm? I’m feeling thirsty.” He heard the Grandmaster walk away and squirmed reflexively, but he couldn’t move much at all. As his arousal faded the burn in his ass came back to the forefront, the ache in his shoulders stretched just a little too far.

And underneath the physical discomfort the resurfacing humiliation. The blatant reminder, far from subtle. _You are a thing. An object to be used when I wish, as I wish._

He swallowed hard several times and tried to relax, to go limp and let his thoughts bleed away. To be nothing but flesh, to be done with as his most recent owner pleased. 

Thoughts of Thor hovered at the fringes of his mind. The memory of his arms holding Loki up as the pain of the obedience disc wracked his body. The shocked horror on his face when he pieced together what Loki had been doing to stay alive. _I’m not going to leave without him,_ he’d said, in that solid Thor way that dared the world to defy him. 

His stomach twisted and he yanked his thoughts away. Or tried. 

“Mm,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s good. You should - you should try this. Not now, though, I...I don’t want to move you. The view’s nice, too, you just look...good enough to eat, you do.” 

Loki pressed his face back into the bed and squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m yours if you want to,” he said numbly. 

“Of course you are! You don’t need to tell _me._ ” The Grandmaster laughed. Loki heard him coming back over; then the sudden cold press of glass on his back. “Hold still,” the Grandmaster said. “This is a, uh, very good drink. Expensive liquor, too. So don’t...spill.” 

Loki froze, barely breathing. 

“Very good,” the Grandmaster cooed, one of his hands rubbing over the curve of Loki’s ass. Loki heard a small sound escape his lips and flushed. “Now, let’s just, hmm–”

He pushed his fingers back inside Loki. He gasped in a breath only to freeze again when he felt the wobble of the glass. “Careful now!” The Grandmaster exclaimed. “That was close. What did I tell you?”

“Hold still,” Loki said. 

“That’s it,” the Grandmaster said, and began slowly, deliberately massaging his fingers over and over that particular spot inside. Loki grunted, hips starting to push back into it, or down into the bed, before he remembered himself and stiffened to hold still. Squeezing his eyes closed as each press of the Grandmaster’s fingers sent a dull throb into his cock, his breathing growing increasingly unsteady. 

“Grandmaster,” he said faintly. 

“Hmm-mm?” The Grandmaster’s voice sounded breezy, unaffected, like he was just - sitting idly, not giving Loki the slowest, most ruthless prostate massage of his life while he fought not to move. 

“I - I don’t know how long I can...stay still when you’re doing that.” 

“Doing this?” The Grandmaster’s fingers pressed down hard and Loki yelped, his body jolting. He felt the glass on his back teeter and shifted frantically to balance it, his whole body tightening until it steadied. “Whoops,” the Grandmaster said cheerfully. “That was a close one.” 

“I don’t want–”

The Grandmaster’s fingers crooked and dragged down and Loki moaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his body clenched as with a cramp. “I didn’t - I didn’t just hear what I thought I heard, did I?” The Grandmaster asked. “Because it sounded like I heard that you don’t _want,_ and, uh...I don’t remember _asking_ for your input.” 

Loki swallowed twice and said faintly, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t _apologize,_ sweet thing,” the Grandmaster said, resuming the slow, steady, pressure, not enough, never quite enough, just enough to _ache_ and make Loki want to move, to rut, to beg for more. The glass was the same temperature as his skin, now. He could almost forget it was there. 

Sooner or later, he knew, it was going to spill. He didn’t know what was going to happen then, but he knew the dread, the dread tangled with the inescapable pleasure coiled in his groin, lurching with each stroke of the Grandmaster’s fingers. He couldn’t last like this forever. Or maybe, worse, he _could,_ and the Grandmaster would see to that–

He stopped, abruptly, and picked up the glass. Loki shuddered with relief as he heard the Grandmaster take a long drink from it. 

“Good job,” he said, voice warm. “I didn’t - I really didn’t think you could do it. I’m impressed.” 

Loki’s body warmed. He opened his mouth to say _thank you,_ felt the surge of loathing when he realized what he was about to say, and then lost both in a wail as the Grandmaster thrust into him again, cock skating across his sensitized flesh rough enough to edge from pleasure over into pain. And at the same time, free of the burden to keep still, Loki pushed back into it, raising his hips, offering his body for the fucking like the whore he was, that the Grandmaster had made him, that he would always be–

_Stop it. Stop it._

The Grandmaster fucked him hard this time, fast, staccato thrusts that turned the burn to something sharper, pain singing through him with every motion of the Grandmaster’s hips. It was close enough to what he sometimes wanted that he could let it feel good, let himself lean into it and take it, his body responding and building slowly toward release. He could hear the Grandmaster reaching that point, too, knew the sound of his breathing and the shift in his rhythm that signaled his approaching orgasm, and sighed out with relief because if it would not mean the _end_ it might at least be a reprieve.

The Grandmaster stopped, but there was no hot flood of come that followed. Just the Grandmaster’s cock pulsing inside him, Loki’s cock pinned between his stomach and the sheets and beginning to chafe, and the ache in his ankles where the Grandmaster’s thrusts had driven him again and again against his restraints. 

His own pleasure, slipping again out of reach and leaving him once again painfully aware of everything that was happening. And everything that wasn’t. 

“See,” the Grandmaster said. “ _That’s_ good. You’re, uh. _Fluttering._ Just these little squeezes, like-” He shifted, slightly, and Loki tensed. The Grandmaster groaned. “Yes, _exactly._ Do that again.” 

Loki’s face burned but he clenched down. He swore he could almost feel the Grandmaster’s pulse in his cock, beating inside him, the heat of him throbbing deep in Loki’s body. 

“I could just stay like this,” the Grandmaster said. “You, ah...keeping my cock warm. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Don’t you want to be useful, sweetheart?” 

Loki’s stomach burned. He closed his eyes like he could hide from this, from any of this, like it mattered that the Grandmaster couldn’t see his face. 

“I know you do,” the Grandmaster purred. “I know how much you want to be _good_ for me. How _happy_ you are when I’m happy with you. Which is why I don’t get why you’d want to leave! You must know that doesn’t make me happy at all.” He shifted again, and a moan slipped out of Loki’s lips. 

“I just - I wasn’t–” Words wouldn’t come easily. His thoughts were foggy, confused. 

“Tell me what you want, Lo-lo,” the Grandmaster said, his fingers sliding over Loki’s hip. “Say it. Say you want to be good for me.” 

He pulled out again. Loki heard himself make a ragged sound. Numbly, his lips shaped the words. “I want to be good for you, Grandmaster.” 

“And you _are,_ ” the Grandmaster cooed. “You are _so_ good for me, sweetheart.” 

This time when he thrust into Loki it was slick and easy, his stretched open ass taking it without resistance, and he fucked Loki through to his orgasm - though not Loki’s. Loki heard the Grandmaster sigh out as his come filled Loki’s ass in pulse after pulse. 

Then he walked away, leaving Loki still sprawled on his stomach, semen leaking out of his aching ass, gasping for air with dull arousal bubbling in his gut.

“There,” he heard the Grandmaster say, sounding satisfied. “That’s a start.” 

Loki shuddered. How long had it been?

How long did he still have to go?

* * *

The Grandmaster left Loki there as come and sweat dried on his skin, leaving him chilled and shivery. Loki could hear him wandering back and forth, humming, and focused on his breathing, wondering a little if he’d been forgotten. (The Grandmaster had done that before.)

When he strolled into Loki’s field of vision, he was almost relieved, especially when he smiled. Which was stupid: the Grandmaster’s smiles meant nothing. 

“How are we doing?” He asked. “Do we, ah, want these off now?” He tapped one of the cuffs and Loki hesitated, caught between honesty and the uncertainty of if that was what the Grandmaster wanted right now. 

“Do you?” He asked finally, and the Grandmaster laughed. 

“Good answer! Such a clever boy, aren’t you? Quick on your feet.” He tucked a strand of Loki’s hair back behind his ear in an almost tender gesture. “I think...I can’t keep you tied up _all_ night, can I? Well, I _could,_ but it’d...it’d limit the things I could _do_ with you, and I don’t want those kind of restrictions getting in the way.” He freed Loki’s left hand as he spoke, then circled around to his right; Loki let his arms fall limply on the bed, though when his ankles were free he was tempted to curl up into a ball. 

“There we go,” the Grandmaster said, rubbing his back. “Why don’t you sit up, roll out those shoulders a bit...are you thirsty, kitten?” 

“Yes,” Loki said, rolling slowly to his side and sitting up. The shift in position brought more come trickling out of him, dampening the sheets. The Grandmaster looked him over, smiling, then picked up his abandoned glass from the table by the bed and sidled up to him. 

“Legs apart, sweet thing - there you go,” he said, as Loki obediently opened his legs so the Grandmaster could stand between them and bring the glass to his lips. Loki didn’t lift his hands to take it, just swallowed what liquid was tipped into his mouth, following as the Grandmaster moved the glass so he had to tilt his head back. Managing not to flinch when the Grandmaster ran his thumb down Loki’s throat as he swallowed. 

It wasn’t water. In the long run it would only make him thirstier. He just wished it were enough to at least get him drunk.

The Grandmaster made him drink until the glass was empty, then dropped it casually on the floor and leaned forward, capturing Loki’s mouth and sucking on his lower lip. Loki leaned back into him, letting his thoughts slide away again. 

Except there was Thor, still. Circling. Loki had managed to keep his old life at a distance, but that distance wasn’t holding now. Loki pressed forward harder only to have the Grandmaster plant his hands against his shoulders and pull away.

“Whoa,” he said. “Eager, hmm? I mean, that’s understandable, you’re - ah, you’re remembering how _good_ it can be with me, right? How...how good I can make you feel? After all, I know _exactly_ what you like.” His hands slid down Loki’s chest to his thighs, thumbs squeezing, and Loki’s breathing caught. “You haven’t...you haven’t come yet, have you? How _remiss_ of me.” He leaned forward, one hand moving to cup his balls, tugging lightly. Loki slammed his eyes closed again, arching with a sound like a whimper. “Do you want me to...um. Take care of that?” 

“I - I…” Loki didn’t know what he was supposed to say, and the Grandmaster squeezing his balls just a little too hard, riding the edge of what hurt in a way he wanted and what was too _much,_ and maybe there wasn’t any difference at all. 

“Come on, Lo. What do you want?” 

“It’s not about what I want,” Loki said breathlessly, and the Grandmaster laughed. 

“You’re right it’s not,” he said. “It’s about what _I_ want. And _I_ want, right now - I want a lot of things, actually. But right now I _especially_ want to hear you, ah. _Asking for it._ ”

A shudder ran through Loki’s body. _No,_ said some sliver of him. _No, I won’t–_

The Grandmaster raised his eyebrows and pressed his thumb to the base of Loki’s cock. His body spasmed and Norns, what was the _point,_ what _pride_ could he claim to have?

“Please,” he said. “Please, Grandmaster.”

“Please what,” the Grandmaster said cheerfully. 

“Please let me come,” he said. The words felt like a parody of desire, for all his cock was stirring, hardening under the Grandmaster’s hand, his body giving in as it always did. 

“Hmm. Not your best, but I’ll take it.” The Grandmaster pulled his hands away and Loki let out a harsh breath accompanied with a noise of protest, then nearly cringed when he realized he’d done it. The Grandmaster didn’t comment, though, just stepped back and gestured. “On the floor, kitten.”

Loki blinked. “What?” 

“Do I - do you really need me to repeat myself?” The Grandmaster asked, starting to frown, and Loki quickly pushed himself off the bed and dropped onto his knees. The Grandmaster took his chin in his hand and guided Loki’s eyes up to his face. “I’m...I’m going to be nice to you, Lo. Because I’m...good like that. Right?”

“Yes, Grandmaster,” Loki said into the pause.

The Grandmaster nodded. “Yes! Of course. So I’m going to...I’m going to give you what you want. But you’re going to do just...a little something for me, while I’m...taking care of you.” His hand shifted, his thumb brushing across Loki’s lips. “See,” he said easily, “it’s just a bit nippy in here. I could use somewhere nice and warm to just...put things, while I’m, hmm, seeing to your needs.” 

Loki’s cheeks warmed. He didn’t need it spelled out any more than that, and if he didn’t understand how the Grandmaster thought he was going to get Loki off like this - well, he was certain he’d find out. He licked his lips. 

“Whatever you want, Grandmaster,” he murmured, and the Grandmaster laughed. 

“Well, _obviously,_ ” he said. “Did you hear a question in there? I’m not _asking_ you, sweetheart. I’m just telling you how things are going to be.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his knee like he was calling a dog to heel. “And here I thought you were _smart._ ”

Loki’s face burned and he was sure he’d flushed bright red. He dropped his eyes and made himself move closer, his eyes skating over the Grandmaster’s soft cock before he looked away, tension in his stomach. The Grandmaster slid his hand around the back of Loki’s neck and squeezed.

“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.” Loki opened his eyes, and the Grandmaster smiled at him, then took a handful of Loki’s hair and pulled his head down, taking his cock in hand and guiding it to Loki’s mouth. Loki parted his lips and let the Grandmaster feed it in, shuddered at his pleased sigh and his murmured, “ _that’s_ it.” 

Loki started to drop his eyes, but the Grandmaster tapped a nail against his cheek. “Eyes on me,” he said. “I want to - mm, see the look on your face.” He moved one foot, then, sliding it up Loki’s thigh, then between his legs, nudging them apart, and ah, yes, it was clear now exactly how the Grandmaster intended to make this work. 

Loki’s stomach burned. He wanted to look away but didn’t dare, and by the grin the Grandmaster gave him he knew exactly what Loki was feeling. 

“Convenient, isn’t it?” He said, nudging Loki’s balls with his toes. “I mean. For us both.” 

Loki started to close his eyes and forced them to stay open. Some ugly, shameful part of him thought _yes, this is exactly the sort of thing you deserve,_ and he wanted to whimper. His cock stirred to life even before the Grandmaster settled his foot over it.

A shiver ran down Loki’s spine and he made a small noise; the Grandmaster’s hand on the back of his neck twitched with a, “oh, _hm,_ ” but he seemed to just be...lounging, cock resting on Loki’s tongue, rubbing him with his foot with lazy near disinterest. Going through the motions. Discharging a, a rather dull task, like–

_Taking a piss,_ was what popped into Loki’s head, and he almost whimpered. His body lurched, spasming, his hips bucking upward. Shame burned in him but it felt like arousal. 

“You’re going to regret it, you know,” the Grandmaster said conversationally, massaging Loki’s cock with the ball of his foot as he held Loki’s head in place with one hand. “Taking off with Sparkles. I honestly don’t know what you see in him. And I mean - he threw you over once before, didn’t he? Which - lucky for _me,_ I mean, one man’s trash, they say–”

Loki flinched, and the Grandmaster carded a hand through his hair. “Easy there. _I_ know better. I’m a great judge of character.” Loki swallowed hard and the Grandmaster made a pleased sound, his cock twitching, partially hardening in Loki’s mouth. “Mm. Nice.

“Anyway,” he went on, toes kneading and Loki pushed up against the pressure, his face burning with shame. “I’m just saying. What’s to stop him from doing it again? Clearly he doesn’t...doesn’t see how much you’re worth. What a, ah, truly delightful companion you can be. Not like _I_ do.”

_Oh,_ Loki thought dizzily, miserably, because the Grandmaster’s words reached down to something inside him, pulling at it, bending him toward that counterfeit warmth.

“Ah well,” the Grandmaster said, fingernails dragging across Loki’s scalp. He shuddered, leaning into it. “You made your choice. And it’s not like - well, for _me,_ there are other fish in the sea. _I’m_ not going to be lonely. There’s plenty of - mm. Arm candy out there I can fuck.”

Loki squeezed his eyes closed, that brief warmth withering as quickly as it had come on. His stomach rolled and clenched at how easily those words, _how much you’re worth,_ flipped in meaning. The Grandmaster gave his hair a little tug and pressed down with his foot again. “Are you almost done? To be honest, I'm getting a little...bored.”

Arousal throbbed deep in Loki’s stomach. His hips moved almost of their own volition, rutting up against the Grandmaster’s foot, his eyes squeezed closed and his face burning, hating himself and the Grandmaster and trying to forget both in the mounting pleasure - and he hated that, too. Hated that the fact that he hated it just made it better. 

The Grandmaster, playing him like a fiddle. No one knew - had ever known - how to do it better. A whine rose up in his throat and he choked it back, unable to quite get enough, rapidly becoming too sensitive for what he _could_ get to even feel _good._

He still let out a noise of protest when the Grandmaster pulled away. “Don’t make that sound,” the Grandmaster said dismissively, still cradling the back of Loki’s head, keeping him in place. “Honestly, this is just - taking too long, and I’m getting a little...well, I think that's enough relaxing. Why don't you put some work into it, sweetpea? Show me what you can do. You can, mm, wait until later."

A part of Loki was almost relieved. Mostly, the sheer indifference stung, even if it was no surprise. The Grandmaster took what he wanted. There was nothing that said he needed to give back. 

He moved his tongue to press upward and sucked lightly. This was - this was better, actually (he told himself); he had some control, some agency, some sense that he was something slightly more than a warm hole. And maybe if he was good enough, the Grandmaster would…

Who did he think he was fooling? The Grandmaster wasn’t going to be finished with him. Not now, and not anytime soon. 

Still, he felt some obscure and embarrassing pride as the Grandmaster’s cock hardened in his mouth, stiffening under his attentions. “Oh, _hm,_ ” he heard the Grandmaster say, audibly pleased, and his chest and stomach warmed, bobbing his head down and working lips and tongue. He knew what the Grandmaster liked, by now. What made him groan and thrust deeper so Loki had to push down his gag reflex.

The Grandmaster hummed deep in his chest and grasped Loki’s head, holding him there with Loki struggling to breath, each swallow squeezing around the cock filling his mouth. “ _Oh,_ ” he said. “That’s - _that’s_ nice, I love how you can just...take it like that. Easy-peasy. Like it’s _nothing_ for you to...and you love it, don’t you, love taking my cock down your throat–”

Loki flushed. His face burned and his body responded with heat, with _want_ that he didn’t bother to fight against. It only made things easier, he told himself.

"Maybe if - mmm.” The Grandmaster gave Loki's hair another casual tug. “Maybe if you gave your brother some of this he'd think twice about kicking you to the curb later on. What do you think?" 

Loki’s warmth evaporated. He heard himself whine, faint and shameful, and flinched; the Grandmaster laughed lowly though with a roughness that suggested that had felt good to him. 

“I mean,” he said, “you really are good with your...good at sucking cock. Your greatest talent, maybe.”

Some deep, miserable part of him glowed even as the rest of him shriveled with shame. He tried to send his mind away, to think of nothing but the motion of lips and tongue and the Grandmaster’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth, but his voice kept drawing Loki back.

“And with your mouth - mmm, full like this, you can’t talk yourself into trouble,” the Grandmaster said. “So it’s a - ooh, yes, do that again - win all around, isn’t it?” 

_Stop,_ Loki wanted to beg. _Please stop, just stop talking and let this finish._ He dug his fingers into his own thighs and redoubled his efforts, listening to the Grandmaster gasp and hum above him, the pace of his thrusts picking up, his cock bumping the back of Loki’s throat. At least this, Loki thought, this was simple. This was easy. This was–

He could almost pretend that after this it would be done. Even though he knew it wouldn’t be. Maybe would never be. Maybe the Grandmaster could stretch time like on Sakaar and this one night would last a thousand.

The Grandmaster came with a sigh, come filling Loki’s mouth faster than he could swallow and spilling over his chin. He pulled out and swiped his fingers through the come on Loki’s chin; Loki licked them clean without asking, and the Grandmaster smiled. “See,” he said. “Now you’re getting it.” He crooked a finger. “Up, sweetheart.” 

Loki stood, because it was the only thing he could do. The Grandmaster put a hand on his hip and drew him closer, sliding a hand between his legs to cup his cock. “Let’s, um. Let’s do something about this, shall we?” He took Loki lightly in hand, tapping his thumb against the head, and Loki felt himself twitch and start to harden again, his continuously unfulfilled arousal a heavy lump in his gut that he didn’t want 

Still, he responded to the Grandmaster’s touch, especially after he slicked his hand with some oil, palm sliding smoothly along Loki’s shaft as his thumb probed the bundle of nerves under the head of his cock. It felt good and if he tried to remove himself from the context, tried to pretend he was anywhere else, that the Grandmaster was anyone else–

(Not anyone. He’d had a lot of _anyones_ and most of them were no better, even the ones that were kind.)

He thrust into the Grandmaster’s grip, breathing turning toward gasps, his hands falling on the Grandmaster’s shoulders to steady himself as he started to shake. “Beautiful,” the Grandmaster purred, “just beautiful, I love how you look when you’re about to come.”

Then he slowed. Loosened his grip. Loki’s exhale came out uneven and he moaned, plaintive, his guts clenching like a cramp as his orgasm slipped, _again,_ out of reach. 

“No,” He gasped, and then cringed. 

“No?” The Grandmaster said, his hand stilling. 

“I didn’t - I didn’t mean–” Loki inhaled shakily. The Grandmaster clicked his tongue.

“Oh,” he said. “I get it. You don’t want me to stop?” Loki bit his lip hard and shook his head, his cheeks burning. “You want me to - hmm. Let you finish?” 

“Yes,” Loki whispered. His legs were trembling.

“When you want something,” the Grandmaster said, “you’d better ask for it, Lo-lo. Or else how do I know what you’re after?” 

Loki swallowed convulsively. He wasn't even certain he wanted to come, at this point, despite the ache of arousal in his loins. He just wanted it to be over. He was increasingly scared that it never would be. "Please, Grandmaster," Loki said, his voice fracturing. "Can I - may I--"

"Nope," the Grandmaster said cheerfully. "No, I don't think so." He tucked a strand of Loki's hair back behind his ear. "I don't think you're ready quite yet."

Loki closed his eyes, despairing, and leaned into the Grandmaster’s hand.

* * *

The Grandmaster did not just _make_ his point _(I own you, everything you are is mine to do with as I please)_. He hammered it home, wrote it in Loki’s flesh, crucified him with it. He pulled Loki apart, cooed over him and promised to put him back together only to break him down further into smaller and smaller pieces, and it occurred to Loki that up until now the Grandmaster had been _merciful._

He hadn’t understood that. Hadn’t appreciated it. 

He should have been more grateful. 

“I can’t help but think,” the Grandmaster said, easing a sounding rod into Loki’s cock, “of all the, ah, missed opportunities. All the things I would have _liked_ to do to you that I didn’t get around to. It’s...such a shame, isn’t it? I mean, we never did any, ah...I didn’t get to leave any _marks_ on you. You heal so _fast._ And I was always...I was tossing around the idea of…” He paused, cocking his head to the side, and Loki let out a harsh, ragged, exhale. His body throbbed, quivering. 

“I would have _loved_ to leave a proper mark on you,” the Grandmaster said, easing the metal a little deeper, and Loki bit back a plea he knew would be ignored. “Something... _lasting._ Something like…” He slid his fingers down to the head of Loki’s cock and squeezed with thumb and forefinger. Loki cried out, and the Grandmaster smiled. 

“Ah, yes,” he said. “In here,” his thumb pressing where the rod entered him, “and out here,” rubbing just under the head of his cock. “Just a little bit of metal. Gold, of course. It would have to be gold.” 

Loki’s breathing hitched. “Grandmaster,” he said hoarsely. 

“There’s still time, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully, easing the rod a little ways out before letting it fall. A shuddering gasp squeezed out of Loki’s lungs as it slid even deeper. “I know exactly who I could call, too. Wouldn’t take five minutes.” He hummed. “Oh, yes. I think–”

“No, stop,” Loki said, the words exploding out of them, and a moment after with a hiccup of terror realized what he’d said. The Grandmaster paused, then pulled the rod out of him in one smooth motion. 

“Lo, sweetheart,” the Grandmaster said, “I wasn’t asking _you._ ”

He would, Loki thought. He would do it. And there would be nothing Loki could do to stop him. 

Something in him broke, all at once. A last little piece of resistance, maybe, strengthened by Thor’s appearance, by those moments of hope that maybe he could get away. He should have known better. He should have known, by now, that the Grandmaster owned him, his claws sunk deep into viscera, into his very _soul._

No part of him was his. No cell. No atom. 

The Grandmaster was looking at him and smiling. “You get it now, don’t you,” he said gently, cupping Loki’s chin. “I can see it. That’s _good,_ Lo-lo. We’re _finally_ on the same page.” He leaned forward. “You’d let me do _anything_ to you, wouldn’t you? But even if...even if you _didn’t_ let me, well. You’d still let me.” 

“Yes, Grandmaster,” Loki said. His voice shook. He was shaking, too.

“If I asked you to bend over and let every gambler on this planet fuck you...you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

Loki closed his eyes. “Yes, Grandmaster.” 

“If I told you to cut my initials into your skin until they scarred - you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” Loki sank his teeth into his lower lip. The Grandmaster’s fingers tightened. “Wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes, Grandmaster,” he whispered. 

“And if I told you to lie back and still while I had someone pierce you as I pleased…”

“I’d do it,” Loki said.

“That’s it,” the Grandmaster said. “I think...I think we’re good here, now.”

He took Loki’s cock in hand, then, and pulled him off in rough, perfunctory strokes, dragging his orgasm out of him, and Loki didn’t fight that, either.

He was crying, Loki realized after, flat on his back on damp sheets. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks, his breathing coming in damp little hiccups. And he couldn’t make himself stop. He didn’t even remember starting.

“Oh, Loki,” the Grandmaster sighed. “Loki, Loki, Loki. Sweetheart. Kitten. Just...take it easy.”

His whole body throbbed. He felt sticky. Deeper than that, disgusting, worthless, like a piece of spoiled meat. 

“You’re good. See?” He tucked a strand of Loki’s hair back behind his ear. “I just...well, if I have to let you go off with Sparkles then I wanted the chance to put you through your paces _one_ more time.” He sighed. “I _am_ going to miss you, sweet thing.” 

Loki was too tired to reply. To say _anything,_ just lie there with tears still leaking from his eyes, limp as a dead fish. He felt like the loser of a war, beaten, despairing. 

“That’s all right, though,” the Grandmaster said. “After all...after all, I’ll know that even when you’re with him, wherever in the galaxy you go...you’re always going to be just a _little_ bit mine. No one’s ever going to love you like I do.”

A sob slipped out of Loki, pulled from deep in his chest. Because it was true. He _knew_ it was true. 

The Grandmaster brushed his fingers over the obedience disk embedded in his neck. “I think...I think we’ll leave this here,” he said. “Just so you know. So you remember me. Hmm?”

“I could never forget,” Loki whispered hoarsely. 

“You say that now,” the Grandmaster said. “But in one hundred years? Two hundred? No...I think it stays. Besides…” He bent his head and circled it with his tongue. “It suits you.”

Loki squeezed his eyes closed and tried to think himself away. In a few hours, he told himself, he’d be out of here. Just a few more hours. 

But he was never going to be free.


End file.
